


Lips to Lips

by Valerin Berenghar (Valerin)



Series: Glimpse [3]
Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Alcohol, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27776164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valerin/pseuds/Valerin%20Berenghar
Summary: Gawain asks a question Lancelot isn't prepared for.-A standalone prompt-fill.
Relationships: Gawain | The Green Knight/The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)
Series: Glimpse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023433
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50
Collections: Netflix's Cursed - Monthly prompts picked by a cursed bot!





	Lips to Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the **lips** prompt. 
> 
> Gawain's first two lines of dialogue are from the movie Inception, which somewhat inspired this prompt. :) 
> 
> Not beta-read.

“Do you know what it is to be a lover?”

The air shifted around Lancelot within the blink of an eye. His shoulders squared, eyes widening as Gawain met his gaze; beneath the look of confusion, there was a bashfulness. Something that tied his tongue as the silence grew heavy between them.

Lancelot was the first one to look away, eyes burning with the reflection from the fire. For a long moment, the crackling sound of the measly log slowly turning to embers seemed to be the loudest thing in the echoing hall. Gawain would have given up his right hand to know what was going on beneath that detached look; to know what thoughts, what feelings wreaked havoc.

There was a silent thump as Lancelot placed the goblet on the table. The wine jug burbled as he refilled the goblet without ever looking up; it was like he didn’t want to look Gawain in the eye. It’d been a beautiful day – not a cloud in sight and with a breeze as gentle as a mother’s caress; Lancelot’s sunkissed skin made it hard to see if there was a rosy tint settling in on his cheeks, but Gawain hoped it was. Hoped that he was bothered by the question and all its implications.

“To be half of a whole,” Gawain continued when no reply came, head coming to tilt to the side.

Lancelot’s eyes flickered up and then down, jug coming down hard on the table, and then he was already drinking in big, slow gulps without looking up. Gawain felt the smile stretch bigger and bigger; the wordless reply spoke greater than words. In a way, it solidified that there was still some innocence left in him. Something the Red Paladins hadn’t taken.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Lancelot froze, eyes rounding. He gulped hard on the last mouthful of wine, goblet coming down again, but he didn’t let go. The skin on his knuckles paled and for a blink, he looked lost – like he didn’t understand. The timid look made the butterflies in Gawain’s stomach flutter. His heart thumped in his chest as he moved seats, pulling the chair as close as he possibly could before he sat down next to Lancelot.

It hadn’t been a yes, but it hadn’t been a no either.

Lancelot straightened when Gawain rested one hand on the back of his chair, fingers idly sweeping over the back of his shoulder. Last week, Squirrel had found a pair of sheep shears and promptly decided that Lancelot needed a haircut. The result looked rather uneven and jagged while wet, but now – now when it was dry the flowy waves cancelled out the hard edges. He didn’t need a pin to hold back his hair and for a week straight, Gawain had watched him tuck away that stubborn strand of hair that fell before his eyes again and again and again.

But he looked good in short hair.

Heartbreakingly good.

“You’re a man of few words today,” Gawain said.

Lancelot’s shifted in his seat, body turning toward him. Beneath the table, their knees rested against each other. “What do you want me to say?” he asked, voice low and wavering at the end. 

The chair creaked as Gawain leaned closer, fist filling with the warm fabric of Lancelot’s shirt. “I want you to say yes…” he whispered, leaning in so close that their noses brushed, lips an inch away from touching. He could feel how Lancelot held his breath. Then he pulled back, “… or no.”

Gawain watched the flick of muscle at the hinges of his jaw.

“Yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Show me…” Lancelot said, voice falling lower by each word, “… what it is to be a lover.”

Gawain raised a hand to Lancelot’s face, gentle fingers coming to brush away that stray lock that had been bothering him all week. All at once, Gawain’s heart skipped a beat when he watched how Lancelot’s gaze dropped low—to his lips.

A warm, wine smelling breath washed over his chin as he leaned closer again, beards coming to scratch as their lips tentatively touched. He watched those long eyelashes falling shut with a warm hum. Kissing Lancelot sent that bud in Gawain’s chest in full bloom; it spread like a wildfire through his body, warm and thrilling and buzzing.

He kissed Lancelot like they had all the time in the world, slow and gentle and careful. And Lancelot kissed him back after a beat, wary and hesitant but a response nonetheless. It took another moment, but then Lancelot figured out the rhythm. Just like that, it was the kiss Gawain had dreamed about for the longest of time. It was something ineffable – something that touched that spot in his chest that hurt and throbbed all at once.

As Gawain pulled away and met that wide, gleaming gaze, he was convinced Lancelot had felt it, too. How it had been a kiss for the spirit as much as it was a kiss for the lips. In the flickering light from the hearth, he looked flushed – the gleam in his eyes matched the glitter on his lips.

“Let’s head back to our quarters,” Gawain said, voice low as he reached out to gently stroke that stubborn lock out of Lancelot’s eyes, “I have much more to show you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcomed. I'm also on Tumblr if you want to follow me there -- [Valerin Berenghar.](https://valerin-berenghar.tumblr.com/)


End file.
